Avenue

Swank Simplicity

In his work and in his wardrobe, photographer C. J. Burton shoots for clean lines with unique visual style to make a striking impact

By Lynda Sea
Photography By Dermot Cleary
Photography Assistant Lindsey Drennan

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Some artists think outside the box. Photographer C.J. Burton, on the other hand, reconstructs that box. Literally.

Rifling through his portfolio, you come across quirky and surreal images — a couple pushing a shopping cart filled with electronics and a silver BMW; a man teetering on the edge of a cliff reaching for an apple off a nearby tree; a guy pushing poker chips stacked taller than his own height.

Burton blends fantasy with reality, but does so through a meticulous process of conceptualizing a story, building hyperreal miniature sets and casting models for them.

The computer, in his case, is just another tool to realize his larger vision.

“I sketch everything out before anything is shot,” he says. “I am a photographer, but I could be more accurately thought of as an illustrator whose medium is photography.”

Raised in Las Vegas, Burton grew up under the tutelage of a father who was a police officer and a wedding portrait photographer. Although skilled in photography at a young age, Burton never thought of it as a career. It wasn’t until he was studying film at the prestigious Art Centre in Pasadena, Calif. that Burton found his niche and turned a love of sci-fi films and model-building into a signature style.

He has built a solid reputation for these unique visual ideas; a number of large American ad agencies and magazines court him to bring his cheeky and fun approach to their pages. Case in point: one of his first jobs was shooting a cover for the Los Angeles Times Magazine of a bubble-wrapped baby for a story about overprotective parenting. His work has also appeared in Time, Newsweek and Esquire.

Burton’s photographs are not about how much can be put into a frame, but actually what can be edited out without losing visual impact. When it comes to his personal style, his photographs are good indicators of his general esthetic: clean simplicity that hints at cool, retro minimalism.

“I like the days when men wore suits everyday,” he says. “When I look back on the ’50s and ’60s, there was this great design sense, and I want that mid-century kind of feel to exist in my photography and my home. The same can be said for the clothes that I wear.”

What does C.J. stand for?

Christopher Jones. I was a week old when my grandpa started calling me C.J. and it stuck.

Do you remember the first photograph that really made an impression on you?

A photographer by the name of David Levinthal came to speak [at the Art Centre], and he’s also from Las Vegas. I’m a huge history buff and he was big into making historical pictures out of miniatures. He did this book called Hitler Moves East. All of the text was about real battles, but the photographs themselves were of little toy soldiers. They’re breathtaking. They are shockingly graphic and real and moving, even though they are toy soldiers.

Why does this kind of photography appeal to you?

I really like constructing little worlds and “sets” and, again, that comes from my experience in film. When you’re doing special effects, some-times it’s cheaper and more affordable to build a miniature. I used to have this mantra written down: it was, “Interesting people in strange places.” I didn’t want to be just a portrait photographer or a just a still life photographer.

Looking at your photos, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s the illusion — is that the response you want?

First and foremost, I want people to be intrigued and pleased. If you see an image of mine in an ad, a magazine or online, the first response I want is, “That’s cool.” I want the photo to have some stopping power. I like the idea of walking that line of how much of this is really happening and how much of it isn’t.

For Canadian Business magazine, Burton illustrated a story about corrupt CEOs whose careers were in trouble.

Are you the same way with your fashion as you are your photography?

They definitely bleed into each other. It’s the same thing with my home, too. I like very clean simple lines in bold, solid colours. This comes  back to where my esthetic goes with my work. There doesn’t have to be a lot of excess.

What’s a fairly typical outfit for you then?

I’m very conscious about my shoes. I like my shoes to have personality and I also think ties are cool. It seems like no matter what shirt I have on, I like to have a collar — somehow it just seems a little more polished. I hate loose T-shirts with logos on them. As far as pants go, I don’t wear jeans. For me, there’s got to be more to wear than blue jeans and a T-shirt. I like tailored clothing and stuff that fits well.

What’s in your closet that you always come back to?

Corduroy pants. To me, corduroy is kind of geeky chic in a weird way. The thin-fitted corduroy — they’re kind of my default pant. I had a corduroy suit at one time, too. I thought that was really cool, sort of like a Wes Anderson thing. He’s always wearing corduroy suits.

Do you remember your first suit?

I probably got it when I was 17. I’ve always been attracted to the single-breasted, high-button suit. The important thing is the way it fits and the way you feel in a suit. Even though I’m 35 — and this may sound silly — it does make you feel more grown-up. It’s reminiscent of an era of our parents’ or our parents’ parents.

Any regrettable fashion statements you made to be hip and cool?

I dyed my hair once — purple. This was in my younger days. It was probably because of a girl. It was supposed to be temporary, but I had it for about six months. And the big sweaters of the ’90s. I definitely always tried to have my own look. At the time, it was long hair, cut-off suit pants, Florsheim wingtips and a cardigan sweater with a T-shirt.

And what’s the craziest thing you’ve done to get a photograph?

For one shot, the tag of the ad was that “it brings all the right elements together.” I thought it’d be interesting to bring the elements — earth, wind, water and fire — together. I had the stylist cover a model entirely in blue paint and then we doused him in water. Then we had to clean off all that blue paint and repaint him red and, the last time, cover him in green paint and cover him head-to-toe in grass. Sometimes you have to stretch yourself and figure it out as you go along. It’s good to have challenges.

That said, what do you think is the most important trait a photographer should have?

A unique visual sensibility. If you want to make an impact and you want someone to notice — to recognize it and see it as you — you have to offer something unique and different. That’s something I’ve strived to do throughout my life.